


If You Smell Something Burning, It's My Heart

by hopeless_eccentric



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Bad Flirting, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Canon Compliant, Canon Non-Binary Character, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Heist, Humor, Juno has to flirt for a case and it goes poorly, Juno is bad at flirting, Nonbinary Juno Steel, Nureyev tries to help, Or not, Other, i guess youll just have to find out, to some extent, to the extent where I ignore the current canon and write my own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26724178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_eccentric/pseuds/hopeless_eccentric
Summary: Wahoo!! Not many content warnings on this one, but just being careful!!Content warnings for implied alcohol, murder mention
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 23
Kudos: 68





	If You Smell Something Burning, It's My Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [espererwhisper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/espererwhisper/gifts).



> Wahoo!! Not many content warnings on this one, but just being careful!!
> 
> Content warnings for implied alcohol, murder mention

This heist in particular saw Juno draped across a velvet couch in the private party room of some bar that was more perfumed smoke than air, surrounded by those who could afford that kind of damage on their lungs. Diamonds worshipped at his fingers, while pearls dripped from his neck, hovering just atop the neckline of a dress he couldn’t imagine himself wearing in any of his wildest dreams. He looked like a widow moving on from one wealthy husband and ready to kill the next. 

It was safe to say he was in Nureyev’s element. 

If Juno was going to be weighed down with this much jewelry, he wished he could at least have an arm to hang onto. However, Nureyev was busy planting bugs in the couch cushions under the guise of delivering drinks, and Juno had a feeling the investor he was supposed to sweet talk wouldn’t appreciate him making over the waitstaff. 

Juno knew it was a horrible idea. He’d tried to convince Buddy of it too, but Nureyev pointed out how similar Juno looked to an old flame of the investor’s, and any hope he had of protesting flung itself into the void of space. 

So here he was, dressed to the nines and top heavy with what Juno called ‘excessive’ jewelry and what Nureyev called ‘hardly enough.’ Sitting around a table that wore empty glasses the way a sea urchin wore spikes were Juno, and a glittering, human-sized beetle that might have been a person, somewhere beneath the riches she wore like an overcoat. 

He reminded himself to complain about this later and shifted his focus back to letting out an over-loud cackle at the investor’s horrendous joke. A few too many pity laughs in the early stages of his relationship with Nureyev had prepared him more than he would have ever known. 

“You’re so funny, madame,” he tried not to say any drier than the Martian desert. He failed. 

“Pardon me?” The investor returned, her glass frozen halfway to her lips. 

Juno coughed. 

“Frog in my throat. I meant to say—“ Juno felt his words trail off when his eyes caught those of a certain waiter. 

“You meant to say?” The investor snapped.

“That uh—“ Juno cleared his throat. “If you were peanut butter, I’d be your—you know what? Forget I ever said anything.” 

From somewhere behind him, Juno could have sworn he heard the all-too-familiar sound of Peter Nureyev trying not to laugh at him. 

“Your drinks, ladies,” Nureyev interjected to drop off a pair of glasses on the table. 

He caught Juno’s eye on the way by. Juno glared. 

“This peanut butter of which you speak,” the investor began once Nureyev had trailed away from their company, still close enough to that smoky little corner to slip a bug into conversation if all else failed. “Quite the ancient food, no?”

“I’m a bit of an old school lady,” Juno smiled. 

Juno tried his best to remember his practice, in which he was coached through pickup lines and cautious flirtations and how to react on the fly if the investor seemed to like one method more than another. With as much as Nureyev distracted him during those sessions, Juno found himself disappointed he was less prepared to be distracted by him now. 

Even with a single, clear objective of loosening the woman’s lips with a few drinks and some pretty conversation, Juno was having a hell of a time focusing. 

For one thing, every damn necklace adorning him made him look like a tacky parade float, and they all had a habit of itching against skin that already prickled with nerves. For another, Nureyev swooped by once more to refill Juno’s water from a glass bottle that looked like it had been plucked from a museum’s shelf. 

That wasn’t the entire issue. If Juno got that distracted every time a waiter brought him a glass of water, he wouldn’t be alive to see Peter Nureyev fixing him with a vulpine grin and trailing his fingers over the smooth, glass edges of the long-necked bottle with the kind of reverence that made Juno’s face grow hot. 

The issue was that Nureyev bent over just barely too much, lips inches from Juno’s ear as he let the glass get just a little too full. 

“Pretend you’re talking to me, dear,” he murmured. 

“I know, I just—“ 

Juno’s exasperated protest died on his lips when Nureyev trailed away, no note of his presence left behind but a faint scent of cologne and a memory of a fox’s smile still dancing in the air beside Juno’s neck. 

“Is something wrong?” The investor demanded once Juno dragged his head out of the stratosphere. 

“Nothing’s wrong...uh...honey,” he managed, eyes falling to exactly where Nureyev had disappeared off too. 

He stood behind the investor, silent as a shadow, with a grin on his face and a clear message mouthed across his lips. 

“That’s better.” 

“Honey,” the investor mused. “I once had a partner who called me that. They looked an awful lot like you, you know.” 

“If that makes you uncomfortable—“

“It doesn’t,” the investor interrupted. “You remind me of them. Not in a bad way.”

“And what else did they call you?” Nureyev mouthed. 

“What else did they call you?” Juno asked, fighting a smile by force when Nureyev did an exaggerated thumbs up from behind the inspector. 

“All sorts of things,” the investor smiled wistfully. “They liked to tell me all these sweet and clever jokes.” 

“Might I fill that void for you, darling?” Nureyev mouthed. 

“Hell no,” Juno mouthed back.

Nureyev shot him an exasperated look, but, for fear of the inspector noticing his presence, did little more than cross his arms and fix Juno with the loveliest glare he had yet been privileged to. 

“Mind if I tried one out?” Juno asked.

“I don’t see why not,” the inspector shrugged. “I’m lonely tonight. I wouldn’t mind some light pretending.” 

“Are you from Tennessee?” 

Nureyev stuffed his fist in his mouth. 

“Where’s that?”

Juno felt his face fall, or at least as much as it could manage with Nureyev turning the color of a beet and shaking with either laughter or rage. After a moment, that face disappeared entirely when Nureyev pressed his head into his hands, as if that might make the entire heist disappear. 

“It’s uh—“ Juno sputtered out. “Well, it’s this place on Earth, and—uh—I was gonna say that it’s because you’re the only ten I see and—you know what? Forget it. Just forget this ever happened.” 

The inspector laughed. Juno wasn’t sure if his or Nureyev’s jaw dropped quicker. 

“You’re cute,” she smiled. “I ought to keep you around.” 

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” Juno managed, half a wheeze. 

The investor chuckled, though Juno lost sight of her face for a moment when his comms lit up across his lap, bouncing light up his gown like a disco ball. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” read Nureyev’s message. 

Juno looked up again to find he had vanished, off to look less suspicious in some other corner of the restaurant. Juno found himself smiling nonetheless. 

“I told you I knew you could flirt,” Nureyev added.

Juno snorted, typed a quick response, then turned his attention back to the lady whose valuable information seemed close . 

“Don’t get too used to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeehaw!!
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!! Make sure to SMASH that kudos button and leave a comment down below for a bad pickup line!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @hopeless-eccentric or on twitter @withane22 !!


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